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vado freestyles on flex | freestyle #055 - vado lyrics

[verse 1]
smell the lie in the air from the bamboo
i don’t hear what i can’t do
i seen cools disappear what they man knew
been a slow month, nothing came the whole month
i need a whole front but watch how they all front
rappers see me stressed with a fully armed
quick to show me they success but they’ll put me on
i’m roaming around vexed with a hoodie on
keep asking myself what i could have done
sometimes your past present make you grab weapons
ain’t no half stepping less you have measure
my juice connect told me this my last beverage
on the arm to my palm, get a bag fetish
small blessings but it’s all lessons
finger f*ck the trigger’s what we call s*xting
my man want to do it, he called it broad texting
i said cool, we could get him right before breakfast
‘fore we hit dirty kids give him a thirty clip
hand him the bag like 2pac on his birdie sh*t
laker jersey, nbs, james worthy fit
go f*ck around and serve the d’s on the early tip
sound boy, this is ground ball
we’re smacked into the wall but i bounced off
thirty five o’s, you a ounce off
and never fail when them hoes be your downfall
you got it so confused so she moved quick
the only thing it be that dude that you moved with
hand in hand, split it equal, went to school with
but you don’t love her, it’s your ego that she fool with
[verse 2]
no, i’m something like kobe, i always was fly homie
ripped jeans too worn under the coyote
63 coupe all white, the pipe’s chrome
arm out, berg all ice, designer rollie
keep two with ice on me
from here to wyomie
y’all know me, shirt yeezy, wild holy
porsche gt old model, naomi
trump president sh*t’s sad, it’s type spooky
throw a garbage can through the glass just like mookie
i don’t give a f*ck ’bout your past, you not loopy
addicted to cash like crack it got pooky
streets callin’, three warrants, cop’s stoolie
sleep, yawnin’, four words: “do not shoot me!”
move raw, hittin’ it right in the parked hooptie
throw it off wrap it in rice you got sushi
g sh*t, hundred k, your wig split
gold saint medallion, g*y, this mink trench
jail pose with gangsters taking street pics
peter shoe at the party, blaze the sequence
derby high moon, herdy that cool
rats that turn goons, we call them raccoons
got bagged up and you servin’ cat food
black coat, black joes with black news
[verse 3: vado]
i had my foot in the game while i stood in the paint
one foot in the game, the other foot in the bank
lifestyle and the fame, i was hooked to the bait
fishin, lookin’ for weight in the kitchen cooking for eight
was a rookie with faith with no rollie but i’m coming
i’m going in, don’t need no pen, my mind running
they all winning i’m just sitting like “naw f*ck it”
was just minutes from at the label with nas covered
interscope buggin’ ain’t even stressed at
so i left that, found khaled where we the best at
me and my next track for the ladies they ain’t even expect that
but they neglect that, did it well, now where the rest at?
keep shoutin’ they need the album
you speak about ’em, know about ’em before you doubt ’em
could be without ’em, streets love ’em, you know they got ’em
leap from that bottom, been a problem straight out of harlem

- vado lyrics

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